


Cabin in the Woods

by geneeste



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Bed Partner Bingo, Cabin Fic, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Just an excuse for silliness, Sharing a Bed, Stakeout, Team Arrow, don't you judge me earl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7663060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geneeste/pseuds/geneeste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t the <i>idea</i> of the cabin that she took issue with, so much as the <i>execution</i> of the cabin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cabin in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is super ridiculous. But writing it made me happy.
> 
> Not sure on the time setting for this - between seasons 2 and 3, I guess? That everyone is happy here is all you need to know, really.
> 
> Enjoy!

_8:20 pm_

The stakeout had been Felicity’s idea, but the cabin had been Oliver’s.

And, really, she could see his reasoning. If they were going to stake out suspected arms dealers deep in the forests north of Starling City, having an inconspicuous cover was certainly a good idea. The location made for an excellent vantage point over the alleged drop sites, and Felicity had become quite adept at setting up a mobile system through which she could eavesdrop on any nearby electronics.

So it wasn’t the _idea_ of the cabin that she took issue with so much as the _execution_ of the cabin.

Which, as they all discovered upon arrival, was exceedingly poor.

“Oh my god, Oliver, what is this place?” Felicity asked, instinctively taking a step back and colliding with Roy’s shoulder.

To begin with, the power situation was obviously precarious at best. There was exposed wiring in what Felicity assumed was the kitchen (a cabinet, a dirty sink, and an unplugged mini fridge does not a kitchen make), and the lights flickered and dimmed unpredictably in the main room.

Then there was the bathroom, which was just barely above horrifying, with a shower head that hung down from the ceiling by a hose and a plate with one screw, and a tiny toilet in the corner. It didn’t even have a door, just a sickly green shower curtain hanging by a rod in the doorway.

Oliver didn’t seem to understand the question. “It’s a cabin.”

“No, Oliver, this is a _Saw_ movie waiting to happen.” She clutched her light overnight bag to her front, afraid to set it down on the dingy floor. She turned to Diggle and sent him a look, silently asking him to intervene.

He shrugged as if to say _we’re here now, what do you want me to do?_ “Where did you say you found this place?”

Oliver went over to the single piece of furniture in the room, a plastic table surrounded by several plastic chairs, and started to unpack her equipment for setup. “On the internet,” he said, nonchalantly.

Felicity narrowed her eyes at him. “The internet as in Airbnb or the internet as in lonelyhunter123 on Craigslist?”

That had Oliver looking up. “What’s wrong with Craigslist?”

Felicity groaned, pressing a hand to her face.

Roy scoffed. “Dude. Haven’t you ever heard of Yelp?” He glanced at Felicity, talking out of the side of his mouth. “Can you imagine the reviews this place would get?

That had her hiding a laugh. “Oliver, I know your expectations for shelter have lowered since the island, but this is ridiculous even for you.”

Disgruntled at being laughed at, Oliver opened his mouth to reply something, but stopped when Diggle held up a hand. “It’s fine, we’re only here for a night. We can make the best of it.”

Diggle took her bag and moved past her to put their stuff in the bedroom, positioned off to the side of the room. He stopped abruptly when he got to the door, tilting his head to the side. “Huh.”

“What?” When she got to his side, she saw what had made him pause. “Oh no. No no no.”

There, in the middle of the small room, were two old-style, rusty, narrow cots pushed together. Neither stained mattress had sheets, but they did at least have bare pillows.

“We’ll just pull them apart,” he said, stepping in to inspect them. When he pulled one side of a cot, all eight legs scraped across the floor. “Huh,” he said again.

“What now?”

Diggle looked up at her. “I think they’ve been welded together.”

If that the wasn’t creepiest thing… “Why would someone weld- you know what? It’s probably better we don’t know.”

Oliver joined them in the room, and finally started to look a little sheepish. “I didn’t know about that.”

“Seriously? Did you not ask anything about this shack before you reserved it?”

Oliver cringed. “I honestly didn’t think we’d be sleeping that much.”

Taking a deep breath, Felicity barely - just barely - resisted the urge to say ‘duh.’ “Okay, new rule: Oliver is no longer allowed to order anything on the internet. Ever,” she announced loudly, so that Roy could hear her in the next room.

“Sorry,” Oliver said, chagrined, and then stepped back into the other room.

Felicity sighed in response, and then watched as Diggle pulled a green army blanket out of his bag and spread it over the cots, pillows and all. “We’ll take shifts sleeping, which is what I would have suggested anyway.”

“Right.” She set her own things down on the bed, and then took refuge in setting up her electonics.

* * *

_10:14pm_

Felicity was tired and bored.

After the initial process of setting up, organizing the equipment, and hacking into the suspected arms dealers’ communications, she found that she actually had very little to contribute. The sound of chatter from their targets (which had been light and seemed fairly harmless as far as she could tell) played out into the room, so her usual job of monitoring channels wasn’t really needed. Oliver and Diggle were out patrolling and observing, which just left Roy to watch her and the shack (she refused to call it a cabin).

It also left Felicity with nothing to do. Although she’d been working Team Arrow for a few years now, this was her first real stakeout, and she’d somehow imagined i’d be more...busy or intense or something. If she’d known how _tedious_ it was going to be she would have brought her tablet or nail polish or a magazine.

The edge of the plastic chair she was sitting on dug into the underside of her thighs, so she used her toes to drag another chair over to prop her legs on. That used up a good 30 seconds.

“Want to play a game?” She asked Roy.

He was staring out the window using night vision-enhanced binoculars. “I probably should focus on this.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I bet there’s some really deadly deer out there.”

He ignored her.

“Come on, we could play I-Spy.”

Still silence. “I’ll go first. I spy with my little eye something that starts with ‘S’.”

Roy snorted. “This shitshack.”

“Good guess,” she muttered. “Okay, your turn.”

Putting down his binoculars for a minute, he turned to her. “Why don’t you go lie down? There’s not much for you to do out here.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” She needled.

“What, are you scared to sleep by yourself?” He asked, matching her tone.

“No,” she snapped. “It’s just...creepy in there.”

Roy face softened a little. “Yeah, I know. Not sure there’s a part of this place that isn’t creepy. But I’ll be right out here, you can see me through the doorway. I promise I won’t go anywhere unless Diggle or Oliver get back.”

She glared at him, not sure she appreciated being handled. She was a grown woman. She could sleep in a damn (creepy) bed alone. “Fine. Don’t touch my babies.”

Roy turned back to the window as she got up. “Like I want to.”

She reluctantly made her way to the blanket-covered cots and sat down, wincing at how it squeaked loudly (of course it did) with every move she made. She toed off her shoes, then took off her glasses and set them on top of the pair. She laid down, trying to ignore the scratchiness of the blanket under her cheek, and closed her eyes.

* * *

_10:37pm_

Felicity’s feet were cold.

Sighing, she rolled over to her other side ( _squeak squeak squeeaaaak)_ and pulled up her legs, trying to tuck her feet closer to the warmth of the back of her thighs.

It didn’t really work.

* * *

_11:08pm_

She blinked to wakefulness, feeling muddled and realizing that she must have managed to doze off for a bit, because her hip was hurting and she heard murmuring coming from the next room. It sounded like Diggle and Oliver were back and were talking in low tones with Roy. Which she knew she should have cared about, but mostly just felt sort of angry that they couldn’t keep it down.

Groaning, she moved to her back and tried to get back to sleep.

* * *

_11:23pm_

The cold had spread to her calves now, which were aching along with her hip, and somewhere someone was sawing something. Or trying to tune a really, really faulty engine.

Seriously, _what could possibly be making that godawful noise._

She opened her eyes to find Roy lying on the next cot facing her, mouth open, and _snoring_. It was probably the loudest snoring she’d ever heard. She’d heard gunshots and explosions that were quieter.

For some reason, this enraged her. “Roy. _Roy._ ”

When he didn’t stir, she punched him in the arm.

“Ow!” He woke with a start, staring at her. “Blondie, what the hell are-”

“Get out.” She said.

“What? I was sleeping!”

Felicity felt her cheeks heat with anger. But not her feet or calves, no, those were still cold. “No, your sinuses were strangling a bear. Get. Out.”

Still staring at her in confusion, he shook his head. “No way, I’m”-

She cut him off, leaning over slowly and speaking very deliberately. “Roy, I will murder you in your sleep.”

His eyes widened. Two beats of silence passed, and then he was out of bed and back in the common room.

She collapsed back onto the mattress (and then immediately winced, because _squeak_ ), and threw a forearm across her eyes.

* * *

_12:20am_

There was something wonderfully warm at her back.

Feeling fuzzy but wanting to figure out the source of that warmth in the freezing room, she peaked over her shoulder.

Diggle. At some point Diggle had taken the second cot, and he was radiating warmth out like a furnace.

She only considered the idea for a second before she was inching her feet backwards. Subtly. If she could just-

Diggle sighed. “What are you doing?”

Grimacing with mild embarrassment, she pulled her feet back to her side of the weird cot-bed. “I’m sorry, it’s just really cold in here. And there’s no blanket. And you’re so _warm_.”

He sighed again, then turned over onto his back. “Come here.”

She brightened immediately. “Really?”

He lifted an arm in response, and so she scooted under it until she met his side. She was positioned over the crack ( _don’t talk about the crack out loud, don’t talk about the crack_ ) between the mattresses now, but she didn’t care.

Before she settled in, she paused for a minute. “Wait, I feel like I should call Lyla for permission.”

Diggle rolled his eyes. “Just come on before I change my mind.”

“Your funeral,” she muttered, mostly joking, before she laid her head on his shoulder, tucking her arms between his chest and hers. She tentatively slid her feet under his legs and left them there when he didn’t comment.

She started get drowsy again as she finally started thaw out. If she’d known cuddling with Diggle was this relaxing, she would have done it ages ago. He was like a very large, very muscular security blanket. Or a Diggle-Bear.

She giggled to herself. (It was very late, and she was a tad punch-drunk.)

“I don’t even want to know,” Diggle said, not opening his eyes.

Felicity cleared her throat. “Sorry, being quiet now.”

And, for the first time that night, she fell fast asleep.

* * *

_3:36am_

This time she was awakened from a deep sleep by someone loudly clearing their throat.

She blinked owlishly up at Oliver, who was standing over them with his arms crossed and an severe frown directed at Diggle.

“What?” Diggle asked, not opening his eyes.

Oliver’s frown intensified. “It's your watch.”

Felicity thought that sounded rather judgmental, but didn’t comment. She just rolled over and tried to conserve as much body heat as possible now that her source was apparently leaving her.

_Squeeeeeeeeaaaaaak sqeeeaaak squeak squeak._

Diggle grumbled something about doing Oliver's job as he got up, but most of their exchange was too low for her to hear, so she ignored it. She was too focused on the fact that she'd have to figure out a way to get through the rest of the night while a) freezing to death, and b) next to her very hot-looking (in more ways than one) partner in literal crime.

Her side of the bed jostled as Oliver lowered his frame onto it. She squeezed her eyes shut and absolutely did not pay any attention to the feeling of his arm resting against her back. She couldn’t decide if his broad shoulders were stupid or wonderful.

She settled on stupidly wonderful.

* * *

_4:12am_

At some point as she dozed on and off, Oliver’s arm had made it’s way over her side and his hand was now resting against her stomach. Given that said arm led to a very firm and comfortable torso, Felicity decided not to bring it up or do anything to cause Oliver to move.

In the interest of sharing body heat, of course.

* * *

_4:17am_

Felicity nestling back into Oliver was also a completely practical and reasonable decision.

* * *

_4:39am_

When Oliver pulled her hips back into his, he was just helping her get comfortable and keeping her off the dreaded bed crack.

Really, it was all because of the cots.

* * *

_5:01am_

If Oliver was nuzzling her neck, it’s because he intuited that it was cold and he was trying to warm her up.

It was definitely working.

* * *

_5:04am_

Okay, so they were kissing. Which wasn’t _strictly_ necessary RE: the heat situation, as she was quite hot by that point, but that was neither here nor there.

She had moved to her back - she would have changed positions anyway, it had nothing to do with getting better access to Oliver’s mouth - and decided after some exploration to upgrade his shoulders from stupidly wonderful to stupidly amazing.

It had just started to get interesting (the best kind of _interesting_ , with tongue), when reality invaded.

“Oh my god, _my eyes!_ ” Roy yelled, causing Oliver to jerk up and away.

For Felicity’s part, some important points came rushing back, including:

1\. they were basically foreplaying in the cabin from _The Blair Witch Project_ ,

2\. they were supposed to be on a stakeout, however unsuccessful it was turning out to be, and

3\. they were one flimsy door away from their best friends, Roy and Diggle.




(This is how she envisioned these points in the moments following Roy’s very inopportune interruption: an indented, orderly, logical, libido-killing list of Important Things to Consider Before Sucking on Your Partner’s Face.)

Diggle gave a disgusted groan. “Really?”

Oliver looked completely unrepentant. “I just did what you told me to do.”

Roy rounded on Diggle. “ _What_ did you tell him to do?”

“That’s not-I didn’t-” Diggle stuttered, sounding mildly horrified.

“I think we can all agree that this is Diggle’s fault,” Felicity interjected, having no idea what they were talking about but figuring it was as good an excuse as any. She tugged on her shoes and glasses quickly. “Let’s move on.”

“What are-” Diggle started.

“We should pack up and get going, no need to hang around,” she said, adjusting her clothes as she stood.

Head held high, she walked between Roy and Diggle to the other room where her electronics were, picking up the first piece of equipment she ran into and storing it.

Since they were all smart men who knew what was good for them, they followed.

* * *

_6:45am_

It didn’t take them long to get everything squared away, considering there were no bad guys to bust and no information to follow up on. Felicity was somewhat hindered by the fact that there was no coffee and it had been a very rough night, but sexual frustration helped make up for the lack of caffeine.

She’d taken the front passenger seat in the van, not wanting to be cooped up with Oliver in the back after not being _with him_ before. But then, to her consternation, he slid into the driver’s seat, so she shouldn’t have bothered.

Since when was he the designated driver for Team Arrow events?

She must have said that out loud, because he turned to her and grinned in response. Oliver Queen, Master of Mope, actually grinned at her.

The jerk.

Oliver started the van and they pulled out, leaving the four of them in silence as they started the trip back home. It was awkward.

“Well, that was…” Diggle said from behind her seat.

“Completely fruitless and a total waste of time?” Felicity supplied. Or snapped, because again: horny and no coffee.

“No way for us to know unless we checked it out,” Oliver said. Cheerfully.

“Yeah, at least you and Felicity got to make out,” Roy called up, sadly well out of strangling range.

Her cheeks warmed immediately. She glanced at Oliver. As expected, he didn’t look embarrassed at all - mostly just smug.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and then turned around in her seat. “Let me make one thing clear. I mean, as crystal.” She began, looking at each one of them in turn.

“What happens at the cabin in the woods, stays at the cabin in the woods.”


End file.
